


Keeping the Distance

by stardustloves



Series: The Distance [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Decreased age gap, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 07:25:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14732528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustloves/pseuds/stardustloves
Summary: Sansa & Tyrion's wedding night, a suggestion, and a promise.





	Keeping the Distance

"A joyous occasion, is it not?"

Sansa stops pushing the food around her plate and looks to Margaery. The girl smiles widely at her, but Sansa is not in the mood for pretty lies. It's easier for her, Sansa thinks. Margaery will wed the new boy king, Tommen, someone who is soft and kind and bears the Lannister looks. He is only thirteen, but girls have been wed and bed by that age if they're unlucky enough to have their first blood by then. He will grow into a fine man in a few years and Margaery will be a happy queen by his side.

She doesn't resent Margaery for her match or for her position, but she knows her friend cannot truly understand how she feels. She doesn't feel quite brave enough to whisper back a disagreement, even to Margaery, her time at King's Landing making her anxious of listening ears. Instead, she lets her expression answer for her.

Margaery places a hand on her cheek and gives her a look of sympathy. "Darling girl, you must let go of the romances in tales and songs. They sound grand, but real life is seldom so kind. I know this isn't what you had in mind, but you may grow to love your husband after all."

The idea of ever falling in love with Tyrion Lannister was almost laughable. Perhaps she might have laughed before she had been betrothed to him. She glances his way, spotting him with his sellsword, seemingly attempting to drown himself in wine. While feeling a mild sense of disgust, she understands the inclination. As if sensing her gaze, he stumbles away from the larger man and to her side.

"Ladies," he greets, pulling himself up on the vacant chair. "Enjoying the night's festivities?"

"Of course," Margaery says, turning a wide smile on him. "It's a wonderful feast."

Whatever Tyrion had planned on saying next is cut off as Cersei's voice rises over the rest. "Will there be a bedding ceremony?"

Men whoop at the suggestion and Sansa's stomach drops. She had almost forgotten the woman's presence. Cersei had been miserable and quiet since her temporary return to the capitol to attend the wedding.

"No, there will not."

Sansa glances to her husband, surprised at the steel in his voice.

"I suppose it would be rather unkind to force any of these poor women into undressing you. Still, the North loves tradition. I'm sure the little dove would not mind being carried off to your chambers."

Tywin is watching the scene unfold with a glare, though she knows it is for the embarrassment his children bring to his house rather than the mistreatment of his new daughter by law.

"I believe I am quite capable of removing my own wife's clothes," Tyrion jests, earning several chuckles. Sansa clenches her teeth in both anger and fear. Men are all the same. "As I am capable of bedding her without any help. In fact, I believe I should do so now, before this fine wine leaves me unable to perform."

He hops down from the chair and almost falls over and Margaery squeezes her arm lightly.

She rises at his behest and lets him lead her away, the sounds of the feast falling away more with every step. She had only had a few sips of wine, but her legs wobble beneath her, threatening to give out at any moment. But she had prepared for this. She knew what would come after being wed.

They enter their chambers silently and Tyrion immediately moves to pour himself more to drink. She notices that he doesn't seem nearly as impaired as he had just minutes ago. It was an act then, but she cannot fathom why he would pretend at something like that.

She puts it from her mind and takes a deep breath as she turns toward the bed. She is soon to reach her eighteenth nameday, but the idea of bedding a man was still as frightening to her as it had been years ago. She had heard of how ruthless men were when lust was upon them and had experienced a few scares herself.

Methodically, she begins to undress, focusing on the task at hand and not what comes after. She has only exposed a shoulder before he speaks.

"Stop."

She looks over her shoulder at him, wondering if she had done something wrong. Surely he could forgive her missteps in a situation so new to her. "My lord?"

"Please, call me Tyrion."

"Tyrion," she says, the name odd on her tongue. "Have I displeased you?"

He sighs and sets his goblet down to join her by the bed. "I will not bed you, not until you wish me to."

It sounds like a false promise. Any promise of goodness turns to be false in the end. Still, hope blooms within her. "And if I never wish to?" she tests.

"Perhaps I ought to have joined the Night's Watch after all," he says with a self-deprecating grin which quickly drops as he receives no reaction. "I will not touch you without your consent, Sansa. Not now or ever."

She wants to believe him, but she knows that she doesn't, not truly. They are to spend the rest of their days together. He will grow weary of waiting one day or another. Tonight, at least, he will stay by his word. She forces a thank you and he hobbles off to the chaise. When she climbs into bed, she turns her back to him. She prays to every god she knows that when the day comes, he will try to be gentle with her.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Part two! I only did part one yesterday, but I got an unexpected break today to write this. :)  
> As a note on their ages, Sansa is (obviously, if you just read this fic) almost eighteen and Tyrion's working age is somewhere between 27-29.  
> There will be more interesting parts to come, I promise. Thank you for reading. Please subscribe to The Distance series to keep updated on new part of the story!


End file.
